Hopelessness, Recklessness, Resolution, Relief
by hardly loquacious
Summary: Most men live in quiet desperation... most women do too.
1. Chapter 1

Again, written for Nellie, as part of the jello-forever Summer Secret Santa. Prompt: Most men live in quiet desperation, Henry David Thoreau.

So, I realized, I somehow managed to write three fic, none of them containing much introspective!Lisbon. Which is shocking in and of itself given how much of that I usually write, but it was also requested. So, to remedy that, I co-opted another fic I had rolling around in my head for a prompt. And it features, as requested, introspective Lisbon. Not sure when exactly it's set, but somewhere in the middle of Lisbon's depressive period in the second half of season two and definitely after the Mashburn ep. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Mentalist or its characters.

xxxxx

Hopelessness, Carelessness, Recklessness, Resolution, Relief

xxxxx

Part 1

xxxxx

She had a system.

First the reports were filed. Those to do with the victim's first, which were then copied, and copies sent to the appropriate locations. Following that she wrote any reports related to team performance, and finally she always ended with Jane. He had his own category because he had so many types of reports: complaints, reprimands, requests for psychiatric evaluation, requests for consults, reports on his conduct, etc. After those were _finally_ finished, she checked her e-mail one last time for the night to make sure she hadn't missed anything. Then she went over her schedule for the next day so she knew what she had to do. Lastly she checked in with her team. Made sure no one was still around. If they were it meant there was probably a problem, and if there was a problem she should know about it. People weren't usually still at the CBI by that point anyway, especially if her reports were numerous. Often everybody'd left already, except for Jane of course.

It was a good system. It worked. It was practical, sensible and unbelievably efficient.

She hated it.

She felt like her whole life was a system. Everything was planned and thought out. Sure, it _worked_, but she was miserable.

But that's how it had to be for Agent Teresa Lisbon. She didn't get to be the person who went out and did something stupid, who slacked off, who had a little extra fun. What if someone saw her? What if something happened? Who would she call? The team? She could just imagine Rigsby or Van Pelt showing up to get her out of trouble. It'd be a nightmare. She was the one who cleaned up messes, not the one who created them.

It was far better to stick to her self-imposed rules. No more than three drinks unless she was already in her own apartment. Stick to the speed limit, wouldn't do for a responsible CBI Agent to get a ticket. Be polite and diplomatic whenever possible. You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. And besides, who knows who the guy you yell at in the morning may turn out to be. You might need him later that afternoon.

Oh, it was all very sensible.

But she was so sick of being sensible.

She spent all of her time being sensible. All of her time taking care of everyone else. And where had it gotten her? Sure, she had her own team, but for how long? Her job was in danger because she couldn't control her consultant. _He_ refused to be sensible. Why should she? She tried to be there for her employees and half the time they spurned her help, or even just plain ignored her, preferring to side with her aforementioned insane consultant, who was apparently, among other things, more fun.

Fun. She had vague memories of what that was like.

Jane was right; she didn't get to have a normal life. She wanted one, but she didn't think it was possible.

All she had was the job. And some days she wasn't sure she even wanted that anymore. She couldn't remember the last time she'd left the office before six. She couldn't remember the last time she went out with her girlfriends. Did she even have any of those anymore? Did they even count if the relationship consisted of a half an hour on the phone every two weeks?

She didn't have a life.

She had a thankless position in law enforcement. Hell, forget being underappreciated by everyone around her, it didn't even _pay _well. She felt like she was sleepwalking through it. Go in, fill out reports, clean up messes, try and control her people, achieve some sort of mediocre success, feel like she's sold her soul, compromise, be tactful, don't scream, smile, nod, acquiesce, agree, try to keep up.

She couldn't stand it anymore.

She just wanted something, anything, to be _different._

She was sick of the rules, sick of being miserable, desperate and unhappy.

The only time she remembered feeling anything more positive than apathy was when she tackled a suspect to the ground about a week ago. That had felt almost good. Like she was doing something.

Everything else just felt grey.

Why _couldn't_ she be like everybody else?

Maybe it was time to give it a try.

Lisbon watched the clock in her office switch from 4:59 to 5:00. Technically her workday was done, even if she was only halfway through her daily routine.

Oh screw it. Time to break the rules. If she had to sit there one minute longer she'd scream.

She grabbed her jacket, shut off her computer, turned out the lights and locked the door, all in under two minutes. Then she flew down the hallway, and down the stairs (she was in no mood to wait for the elevator) without so much as a backwards glance at her team.

She wondered briefly if any of them noticed. That'd give them a bit of a shock if they did. Might even worry them a little, the boss going home at a reasonable hour. The idea gave her the tiniest spark of satisfaction. Good. Let someone else worry for a change.

Suddenly she found herself outside. The breeze felt good on her face. She almost smiled.

xxxxx

Patrick Jane's eyes popped open in shock. That sounded like Lisbon stalking down the hallway. But it couldn't be Lisbon. It couldn't possibly be any later than five. And Lisbon never left work that early. She'd have barely been halfway through the day's paperwork.

He checked his watch. 5:02.

Hmm.

That wasn't a good sign. Not a good sign at all.

He glanced at Rigsby and Van Pelt (Cho's facial expression would be almost useless in this case). Both junior agents looked mildly shocked, and Van Pelt's expression also contained a hint of concern.

"I take it that was Lisbon leaving for the night," Jane surmised.

"Yeah," Van Pelt said distractedly.

"She sure flew out of here," Rigsby added. "You think something's wrong?"

"Maybe she just realized she's just late for an appointment," Van Pelt suggested half-heartedly.

"Maybe," Jane agreed. But he didn't think so. He was more inclined to agree with Rigsby. He'd been watching their boss lately. More so then usual. She'd been, well... different. Something was rotten in the state of Lisbon.

He was determined to find out what.

xxxxx

Lisbon sat in her SUV, the windows rolled down, stupidly pleased as she watched her speedometer creep up slowly. She grinned to herself. Driving 15 miles per hour over the speed limit may not sound like much, but it meant something to her. She was breaking her first rule.

She wondered idly what would happen if she did get pulled over. Should she flash her badge? Claim an urgent case? Maybe tell the officer that the case was meant to be kept on the down low as much as possible so she hadn't wanted to use her siren. Lisbon almost laughed. If she got the right cop she bet she'd be able to talk him into anything. With the right tone of course. Or maybe, her grin turned mischievous, maybe she should keep the CBI out of it as much as possible. Maybe try and flirt her way out of the ticket.

God, how long had it been since she'd done that? Flirted to get something. Had she ever done that? She wondered if it'd even work. She'd probably feel guilty afterward, but it might be fun. And she needed fun.

Lisbon rolled her window down another couple of inches.

God it felt good to be out of the office.

Suddenly her cell rang. She frowned. Should have know the law would catch up to her somehow, one way or another. She checked her caller ID and her expression switched from annoyance to amusement when she read "Patrick Jane" on the screen.

She dropped her phone back into her purse without answering. It wasn't a case. Someone else would have called if it had been. No, it looked like her impromptu exit had been noticed. Well, Jane could lie on his couch and stew about it for all she cared. Let him be the one to worry for a change.

She didn't want to think. She just wanted to drive.

xxxxx

The next morning Lisbon walked briskly into her office at her usual time. She was as alert as ever, if a little tired. Driving around the city until almost midnight, only stopping to get gas and grab dinner from a fast food joint will do that to a person.

But it was worth it, if only for the brief act of quiet rebellion.

She glanced into the bullpen. It didn't look like anyone was around yet. Unsurprising, she was early. She unlocked her door quietly and stepped in her office.

She probably should have been startled to see Jane napping on her couch, but really, it was almost expected.

"Do I even want to know how you got in here?" she asked him dryly.

"Probably not," Jane replied as he sat up and stretched. "You're in early," he observed.

"I'm always in early," she retorted quickly. "Beat you in most of the time."

"You look tired," Jane said slowly, his eyes darting around her face, checking for clues to a puzzle he wasn't quite sure how to solve yet.

If Lisbon minded the attention she didn't show it. "Thanks for that Jane," she told him dryly. "I'll have you know you don't exactly look alert most of the time either. I'll be fine."

"I'm sure you will," he murmured, lost in thought. "Late night?" he asked.

"Of sorts," she replied noncommittally.

Jane sighed internally. Apparently whatever it was she'd decided not to talk about it. Unsurprising, but it did nothing to lighten the unease he felt in the back of his brain. "I called you, you know," he added lightly.

"I know," Lisbon said. "I listened to my messages late last night. You said it wasn't important so I figured I'd just ask you about it today," she explained. "What's on your mind?"

Jane frowned. She'd _listened_ her messages late last night, implying that she'd probably _gotten _it when he'd called her at 5:30, but had just decided to blow him off. Another bad sign. He knew he was annoying, but the Lisbon he was used to didn't blow off her team. It didn't matter what it was about, or what time it was, she just didn't. This was genuinely worrying, couldn't tell her that; she might shut down on him. So Jane simply shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing much," he told her lightly. "You just left in kind of a hurry yesterday. I was surprised, wanted to make sure nothing was wrong."

Lisbon's hands stilled on her desk where she'd been flipping through her in-box. She hadn't expected him to be quite so direct about the whole thing. Normally Jane was all evasion and tricks. He really _was _worried. She ignored the jolt of triumph that thought provoked and quickly resumed shuffling, but she knew it was too late. Jane being Jane, he'd have already noticed. "I'm fine," she told him, looking at the files and not in his eyes. "Just had a sudden urge to get out of here. Needed a bit of fresh air, you know. Nothing to worry about."

"You're sure that's all?" Jane double-checked.

Lisbon put her files down in mock exasperation and met his eyes then, "Yes Jane, I'm sure. Just felt like a change of scenery. Don't worry. I'm pretty sure worrying falls under my job description anyway. I just wanted a night off for a change."

"Alright, if you're sure," Jane told her.

"I am," she replied firmly.

"So what'd you end up doing?" Jane asked lightly.

She'd been so hoping he wouldn't ask her that. "Oh, nothing much," she replied evasively. "Went for a drive, got some dinner, nothing to write home about."

Jane frowned. She'd been out late enough that she was tired this morning and she'd done nothing but drive and get dinner? He placed a tentative hand on her forearm. "Lisbon, you know you can talk to me if something's wrong, don't you?"

Lisbon glanced up again in surprise, "What?" she asked.

"If something was bothering you," Jane clarified. "I know I'm not the easiest person in the world, but if you ever needed someone to talk to…"

"I'm _fine_," Lisbon insisted. She really didn't want to talk about it, though she did appreciate the offer in a way. "Like I said, I just wanted to get out of the building at a reasonable hour for once."

"Okay," Jane said, deciding a strategic retreat was in order. Whatever was bothering her she obviously wasn't ready to talk to him about it. Yet. "I'm going to go make some tea, do you want anything?" he asked.

"No thanks," Lisbon told him easily.

Jane nodded before turning to leave. When he reached the threshold he turned, "Remember Lisbon if you ever want to talk…"

"I _know_," she told him. Then she sighed. "Thanks Jane. I appreciate it, I do, but really, I'm…"

"I know, you're fine," he replied. "Just making sure."

"Go make your tea," she ordered playfully.

"Yes ma'am."

Lisbon shook her head as she watched him leave. She should have known she couldn't leave early without someone noticing. Especially with Jane around. She frowned. Jane. Her consultant appeared to be quite concerned actually. That was, well, she wasn't sure she liked the scrutiny, but on the other hand, it was almost… it was almost nice, and not in Jane's usual selfish or even slightly manipulative kind of way. It was just… genuinely nice.

She shook herself. Time to get back to work. Joy.

xxxxx

That night she waits until almost eight before leaving.

She knows if she leaves anywhere near early two days in a row more than Jane will be concerned about her. Jane himself is bad enough; she doesn't want to deal with Van Pelt's doleful looks, Rigsby's endearingly awkward attempts at opening that conversation or Cho's blunt interrogation.

So she waits until the rest of the team is gone. She's pretty sure Jane is still puttering around, but since he sometimes spends the night in the bullpen she has absolutely no intention of waiting him out.

She considers another night of driving, but in the end it's not what she's in the mood for.

She wants something more interactive.

Oh, not with people she knows. She still doesn't want to be seen exactly. But she wants something. Something like a bar, or maybe a club. A couple drinks, maybe some dancing with a complete stranger.

Normal people did that right?

Her mind made up Lisbon heads to the ladies room. She'll probably end up dropping her car off at home (she's nowhere near reckless enough to drive after having a couple of drinks), but she didn't want to spend any time there. There's too much chance that once she stepped in her doorway and saw her apartment that she'd realize there was any number of things she should be doing with her night. Responsible things. Things that followed her rules. And she didn't want to talk herself out of this.

So she added a little extra make-up right there at the CBI. Not too much, but it made a difference. And she took her hair out of the ponytail. If she shed her suit jacket once she got to her car she'd be all set. She looked like she's going out, not like she was going to spend her evening organizing her closet before watching a movie on the couch, a nearby stack of files the only thing keeping her company.

It was sad that that thought's enough to make her smile to herself.

Snapping her purse shut she grabbed her coat and heads out past the bullpen. She knew she'd better check in on Jane. He'd probably notice the make-up, but leaving without acknowledging him for a second consecutive night would be worse.

"Night Jane," she called from the doorway.

"Night Lisbon," he replied, opening his eyes.

As she expects his eyes widened when he saw her. "Going somewhere?" he asked, in an attempt to be casual.

Lisbon summoned up a smile. "That," she informed him, "Is none of your business. I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," Jane said softly, watching her walk out briskly.

Leaving early one day, a night out the next? Something was definitely up. And he wasn't sure he liked it.

xxxxx

Even with stopping for dinner, it didn't take long for Lisbon to find herself at a bar. Nothing too fancy, but not a dive either. Just something very middle of the road. With a dance floor.

It was perfect.

She slid onto a stool, caught the bartender's attention and ordered herself a whisky sour. She was just finishing her second when someone tapped her on the shoulder. Lisbon spun on her stool to face a guy about her age. His hair was spiked up to such a ludicrous degree, but other than that he was pretty cute so she sent him a smile.

"What's a pretty lady like you doing all alone in a place like this?" he asked her, in what was clearly an attempt to be smooth.

"Just relaxing after a long day at the office," she replied truthfully. "Trying to work out the kinks in my neck from sitting at a desk all day."

"You feel like working out the kinks on the dance floor?" her admirer asked.

Lisbon's smile grew ever so slightly, "Thought you'd never ask."

"Name's Mike," he mentioned, holding out a hand.

"Teresa," she replied in turn. Teresa. Tonight she got to be just Teresa.

Mike lasted for a few dances until he got a call he just has to take. Lisbon didn't mind so much though, she wasn't looking for long-term, or even something that'd last an entire evening, just some human contact. She took advantage of the break to head back to the bar for another drink. She'd barely gotten there before Joe, an accountant from out of town, offered to buy her one. Joe is followed by Owen, who is followed by Marco, who was actually a pretty good dancer. Lisbon felt like she was gliding, or maybe floating around the floor when he took the lead, though part of that may have been the alcohol. And if his hands strayed to slightly less than appropriate locations from time to time she certainly didn't stop him. May have even encouraged it. Though she's alone in her cab on the ride home. She regretted the decision briefly, but she had to be at work before nine the next morning, and who wants to deal with the hassle of getting rid of someone before then?

Instead she made sure to drink a couple of glasses of water before falling exhausted into bed. It wasn't a perfect night, but at least it was different.

And if Jane noticed the hollows under her eyes the next morning he doesn't comment on it.

She never let it affect the job. During the work day she was as calm and collected as ever. She could be a bit reckless in her personal life if she wanted to, that was on her. But she refused to let her own potential self-destructive issues put anyone else in a position where they might be harmed. She's seen what that's like, and she won't to be the cause of it. So work didn't suffer, not when Teresa Lisbon was in charge. Whether they appreciated her or not, her team depended on her. And she wouldn't let them down. Them or the victims.

She even decided to stay in the next day, be responsible again, maybe catch up on some sleep (though she did rebel slightly by still refusing to clean her closet). Besides, if she had continuously arrived at the office looking half dead then Jane would eventually say something, and sooner rather than later.

Of course the day after that her consultant decided to hypnotize a potential witness. Lisbon spent hours dealing with the aftermath before deciding she'd had enough. And she was so frustrated that it only took her about thirty seconds to decide that she's not going home to her empty apartment.

She was going out. And she was going to drink alcohol. And she was going to dance. She didn't care about the consequences. She was doing it anyway.

Let Jane notice and worry about it if he must. He obviously didn't consider how his actions affected her, why should she consider how hers affected him?

And with that Lisbon fell into a pattern. She started breaking her rules after-hours, just because she could. To prove to herself that she was still a human being, and not some sort of emotionless law-enforcement robot with no human connection in her life.

And a part of her enjoyed breaking them: driving late at night, speeding, ignoring petty traffic laws, going to bars, drinking more than she should, rubbing up against strangers. Not the most rewarding use of her time, but it beat looking around her empty apartment in despair. Still, she never quite got to bringing someone home. For one, part of her balked at the potential danger of a complete stranger with who knows what on his mind in her apartment, for another, part of her wanted it to mean something. Even if it was just a one night stand. She didn't want to be just the girl who was drunk enough, or attractive enough in dim light, or stupid enough to go home with some guy. She wanted to be special. Just for a few hours. She didn't want to just be the best someone can do. And that's what it always felt like. Like she was some sort of consolation prize, to be thrown out in the harsh light of day.

Still, three days out of five she didn't go home after work. She either drove too fast around the city or she found a bar.

She knew Jane had noticed. She'd watched his eyebrows raise every time he saw her wearing more than her usual amount of make-up just before she leaves. And she saw his forehead pinch together in concern each morning that she drags herself into work half-asleep and desperate for that morning coffee. But the man had apparently decided not to say anything, so Lisbon just ignored him.

She wasn't exactly sure if what she was doing always made her feel _better_ exactly. But at least it made her feel something.

xxxxx

Jane was utterly and completely flummoxed.

At least one day a week for almost the past month Lisbon hadn't stayed late. And half the time when she did leave at her usual time she was wearing much heavier make-up and then coming in the next morning looking exhausted. All signs pointed to their lovely team leader getting a social life.

Which would have been good for her (she worked way too hard, it wasn't healthy), except that her overall demeanour didn't contain any of the other indications of more regular healthy social interaction. She wasn't more relaxed, she wasn't happier, she never mentioned new friends or anybody or even anywhere new, even obliquely in passing. If anything she was even more subdued on the job than before. He'd known something was up since Bosco'd been killed but...

Jane's jaw tightened.

As always, it all came back to Red John.

If the serial killer'd done this then Jane'd kill him. Actually, he'd kill him anyways. Now he'd just have to tack on another hour or so of brutal torture before death.

Jane didn't like this shell of a Lisbon. He was worried, to a degree that surprised him. She couldn't keep on like this. She looked half dead walking around the office some days. It couldn't be healthy. And if she wasn't developing a regular social life then where was she going all those days?

Jane almost grinned. Well, there was only way to figure that out.

Clearly he needed to keep a closer eye on her.

So he followed her a couple of evenings. Saw her drive her SUV significantly faster than she ever would've on the job (barring some sort of high-speed chase after a suspect of course). But he was shocked the first night when she didn't even stop anywhere. He was even more shocked the second evening when he saw her head into a bar (one that she was clearly not frequenting to meet anyone specific), and she didn't leave until just before last call, though he was relieved to see that she left alone, if a little unsteadily.

Jane frowned to himself. What on earth was she trying not to think about so much? He'd been hoping the new behaviour was just a phase, but it had been going on nearly a month now. And Lisbon was no happier, nor was she showing any signs of stopping.

He was worried something really self-destructive will be next.

xxxxx

Lisbon idly pushed her pen around her desk, trying to ignore the now-familiar feeling of desperation that was brewing just below the surface.

She knew she'd be going out again tonight, but she didn't know what to do. She didn't feel like just driving, and gas was so expensive that sometimes it almost wasn't worth it.

But she also wasn't in the mood for an anonymous bar. She was sick of seeing the same types of guys, of the way they touched her. She wanted to go out, but, but with someone she _knew. _She, she wanted to feel like the only woman in the room. She wanted someone who knew her. And she wouldn't meet that type of guy in a bar. But the idea of going through the whole awkwardness of a first date didn't appeal to her either. She cringed at the thought of sitting across from some completely inoffensive guy in a sweater-vest while they desperately tried to find something they had in common to keep the conversation going. No, she didn't want the hassle of a relationship, but she also didn't want a stranger.

And there's only so much you can do in a bar, even if it has a dance floor. After a while, it's not all that much fun.

Fun.

Could any of what she'd been doing be considered fun?

I mean, she has had some fun in the last year. She's certain of it. She must have. She's sure she'll remember something. Why can't she? Then, just before she was about to give up, Lisbon's mind flashed to disjointed memories, of Jane giving her a pony, of yoga with Van Pelt, of tackling suspects, of trying to beat Jane at his own game, of teasing him, of watching Jane get his comeuppance when another psychic pushed his buttons, or when he was toying with a multi-billionaire. Listening to Jane and Walter Mashburn bond had been strangely entertaining.

Lisbon sighed, all of those had been fun, but they'd also all been about work.

Maybe she should try and find a nice normal guy and go on a date, even if it probably would be uneventful. After all, maybe her luck had changed.

When was the last time she'd been on a date? Lisbon put her head in her hands. Now that really had been ages ago. The closest she'd come in recent months was when Mashburn had tried to ask her out. She'd said no of course. Not only was he basically amoral, he was also a potential suspect in her murder investigation. Which meant he was off limits. Of course he wasn't a suspect anymore. And he probably hadn't been interested in her simply because she was handy. The man was seriously wealthy. He could have any woman he wanted. There had to be some reason he'd chosen her, even if Lisbon had no idea what that was. She flashed back to that case, smiling to herself. Mashburn had been kind of fun though, and the attention had been flattering. He obviously wasn't an idiot. And she didn't actually think he'd ever actually hurt her, not physically at least. He was just bored.

Like she was.

Lisbon grinned to herself and opened her web browser. She had an idea.

About ten minutes later Lisbon heard a knock on her door. "Yeah?" she called out distractedly.

"Hey Lisbon," Jane said.

"What do you want Jane?" she asked dryly.

"Do you have plans tonight?" Jane asked.

"What?" Lisbon replied, surprised. "No, why?" She actually did sort of have plans. She was dying to get out of the office, but there was no way she could tell him how she was spending her time. He'd just pick it to death until she got embarrassed or killed him, or both.

Jane was pleased by her answer. Obviously her random trips to the bars of Sacramento weren't planned ventures. Somehow that made him feel better. "Well, I was thinking," her consultant started, "It's been a while since we've done something all together, you know, as a team. I thought we could all go out tonight, for dinner."

Lisbon froze momentarily, glancing at her computer screen. If she wanted to follow through on her wild idea, she'd have to do it tonight. "That sounds really nice Jane, but can I take a rain check? I just remembered I do have something tonight that I can't get out of. But I'm free pretty much any other evening this week or next, if that's okay?" She watched Jane's face fall. "If it's not I could try and..." Lisbon started.

But Jane recovered quickly. "No, no," he insisted. "Don't change your plans. I haven't asked anyone else yet, so why don't I figure out their schedules and we'll consolidate."

"Sounds good," Lisbon agreed.

"Alright, then I'll just leave you be," Jane told her. He knew a strategic retreat was in order. For one, no way would Lisbon actually confide in him, and for two, he needed to figure this out. Clearly these little outings were starting to mean a quite a bit to his boss. And with Lisbon direct confrontation was very rarely the right way to go. He turned to leave her office, sending her a slight smile.

"Hey Jane," she called after him suddenly.

He turned back halfway, "Yeah?"

"It's a really good idea, going out to dinner. You're right, we should do it. Tell everyone to work something out" she instructed. "We'll call it team bonding."

Jane grinned slightly, "I'll see what I can do." He promised. His grin faded when she looked away. Lisbon was acting very un-Lisbon like. He was worried. Because the more he thought about it, the more he knew something was radically wrong in Lisbon land.

He needed a plan.

Back in her office, Lisbon was formulating a plan of her own.

xxxxx

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Alright, here it is, part 2. Or as I've been referring to it in my head, 'the fun part.' Part three is 'the Jane part' if anyone's interested. It'll be up tomorrow. Oh, and if anyone has any thoughts as to how this fic should be classified, I'm open to suggestions. It's currently Friendship/Romance, but it's kind of a strange one so...

Until then, enjoy.

xxxxx

Lisbon grinned to herself as she looked around the club. Even if it was the grand opening, between Jane's influence and her badge, she'd somehow known she'd be able to talk her way in.

She smoothed her dress down self-consciously. Despite her recent spate of social outings it'd been a while since she'd worn one, and she was feeling just the slightest bit uncomfortable. She was determined to get over it though, especially after driving all this way. One way or another she was going to have fun tonight. So she decided to take a walk around the club, see what's what.

It was more tasteful than she was anticipating actually. Definitely targeting a more upscale crowd, which put her more at ease. Far less chance of a fight erupting, or some other kind of trouble. She'd have to keep an eye on her drink of course, but that was pretty much a given.

With that thought, Lisbon decided to head to the bar. They were offering a bunch of special signature drinks for the opening, and though they usually weren't her favourites, Lisbon ordered one of the fruity concoctions in a pretty glass. The thing turned out to be bright pink, which made her laugh. Plus it was actually not too bad. She wouldn't want one every week or anything, but she was actually pleasantly surprised.

She was just nearing the end of it when she spotted her target.

Walter Mashburn had arrived. As she expected, he was surrounded by a gaggle of admirers. Though Lisbon was amused by the fact that he didn't seem to be attached to any one in particular. In actual fact he was treating all of them with the same approximate level of mild disinterest for all that he had a pleasant expression on his face. Lisbon supposed with his money he saw a lot of the same kind of woman and so he didn't bother to drum up much effort.

Lisbon grinned to herself, it was a good thing she wasn't that kind of woman. She watched him surreptitiously as she played with her glass. He appeared to be making the rounds. Any minute now he'd be on his way over to the bar at which point he couldn't help but see her. Whether he recognized her or not was a whole other story, and something she'd been trying not to think too much about for the past few hours. At least if he didn't recognize her there was no one around to see her embarrassment.

Lisbon felt the nerves beginning to dance in her stomach as she watched him. Now was her last chance to abandon this insane idea and slink off home. But that small rebellious part of herself that'd gotten so sick of her life wouldn't let her. So she stayed glued to her stool. Just as she'd predicted Walter Mashburn turned toward the bar. As he walked towards it he scanned the crowd, presumably looking for a bartender. That's when he noticed her. His eyes widened in obvious surprise and pleasure, and she suspected also curiosity, so she sent him a flirtatious smile in return (or what she hoped was a flirtatious smile at least. There's always the possibility she looked like a complete and utter moron). Then, when he got closer she quirked an eyebrow at him in challenge.

"Well, this is a surprise," he said when he was finally close enough to speak. "Agent Lisbon I believe," he added, trailing his eyes from her toes all the way back up to her face in appreciation.

Lisbon nodded, sending him a smile, "I'm impressed," she replied easily. "I wouldn't expect a man like you to remember my name."

"Ah, but Agent," Mashburn said with an easy grin. "A man doesn't get where I've gotten by forgetting people who might be important. Patrick Jane wasn't the only one I looked into you know."

"Oh?" she asked surprised.

"You've made a quite a name for yourself as well, very successful in your chosen field. And you've made the papers more than once, and not just the local ones. I know who you are," he added with what she assumed was supposed to be an enigmatic look. "Besides, I never forget a beautiful woman."

"Really?" Lisbon asked sceptically, with a significant nod towards his entourage on the other side of the room, all of them quite attractive by any standard.

Mashburn followed her eye, "Who them?" he asked amusedly. "They're a dime a dozen. They could come from a warehouse they're so much the same. But I take your point; I probably won't be able to remember most of their names by next week. But you, you're something else entirely. I told you that when we met."

"I remember," Lisbon replied.

"So what are you doing here?" he asked with a grin. "Not that I'm complaining of course, but I seem to recall you making a point of the fact that you live in Sacramento. I trust that hasn't changed Agent?"

"No," Lisbon replied with a smirk. She'd been expecting a question like that. "But a girl can't take a little drive for a fun night out?"

"Seems a long way to go just to come to a club," the billionaire pointed out.

Lisbon shrugged, "Maybe I just got sick of all the places I usually go to. And word on the street is that this place is going to be the next big thing." Okay, so it'd been the tag line on the single website she'd actually looked at, but he didn't need to know that.

"And the fact that yours truly happens to be providing the majority of the financial backing is entirely coincidental?" Mashburn checked.

"Oh _you're_ the money behind this place?" Lisbon asked innocently. "I had no idea."

"Sure you didn't," Mashburn replied, clearly amused. "Well since you are here, I think you should let me buy you a drink. What're you having?"

Lisbon held up her empty glass in answer.

Mashburn winced. "Oh, you don't want another one of those things. I'll get you one of my favourites instead." Lisbon nodded her approval, curious to know what drink a billionaire would bring her, so he signalled the bartender. "Two of my usual please Tommy."

"Certainly Mr. Mashburn," the bartender replied immediately.

"And Tommy," Mashburn added, "Anything else this lovely lady decides to order, put it on my tab would you?"

"Of course sir," the man replied immediately.

"Oh, that's not necessary," Lisbon started to say.

"Please Agent Lisbon, let me buy your drinks for the evening," Mashburn interrupted smoothly. "Especially since you refused last time we met. Besides, we both know it's not as if money's an issue. Think of it as my way of giving back to California's underpaid civil servants if you must."

Lisbon eyed him warily for a moment before smiling and shrugging, "Well, I suppose I can live with that," she told him. "For now."

"Good," Mashburn said with a grin. With that their drinks arrived. To Lisbon's amusement these were green. He handed her one and picked up his own.

"So are you going to tell me what's in these?" she asked.

"Absolutely not," he replied easily. "Secret recipe. But if you ever want another Tommy can make you one. Just ask for my favourite." Mashburn held up his glass. "Here's to getting to know each other."

Lisbon rolled her eyes but she did clink her glass against his before taking a drink. "These are good," she admitted. Whatever was in the drinks they had a citrusy flavour and were less cloyingly sweet than the other one she'd tried.

"I knew you'd like this better," Mashburn told her smugly.

"I do," she agreed. "But the others aren't that bad you know; I kind of liked mine, though I admit I probably wouldn't want more than one."

"Well, I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," he set down his glass and focussed his attention on her. "Now tell me, why are you really here?"

"I told you," she replied airily, "I was looking for a fun night out."

"And you just ended up here," he asked sceptically, waving his hand around the club.

"Yes," Lisbon replied definitively. Jane might have been able to see through the lies as easily as breathing, but she doubted that Mashburn was that certain, whatever his suspicions might have been.

"I see," Mashburn replied, clearly unconvinced. "And how'd you get in exactly?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, sending him an intentionally blank look.

Mashburn looked pleased at her evasion, "Most of the guests are here by invitation," he explained. "And I'd have noticed if you were on that list. Anyone else has been waiting in line for hours. Given that you work regular hours in another city I'm not sure how you managed to get in so early. Know someone on the staff?"

"You don't think I could talk my way into one of these things?" Lisbon asked, trying to decide whether or not she was amused or insulted.

"So you flashed your badge?" Mashburn guessed.

Huh, insulted it is then, she decided. "I did not!" she replied indignantly.

He laughed. "I can assure you Agent Lisbon that you're attractive enough to talk your way into anywhere that strikes your fancy. I just didn't think you were the type to do it," he said as he took another sip of his drink and watched her, his eyes considering. "But maybe I should re-think that opinion," he added slowly.

"Maybe you should," Lisbon agreed, taking sip of her own drink.

"So you're not here on official business then?" Mashburn asked. "I assumed not when I saw you were drinking, but you never know..."

"No, you don't," Lisbon replied. "How do you know I'm not undercover? I'd need to drink then to fit in." She had to admit she was enjoying the game they were playing. She liked that she could keep him guessing.

"Are you undercover?" Mashburn asked intrigued. "Are there other agents watching our every move, waiting for someone to say or do something incriminating before rushing in?" He grinned suddenly. "Am _I_ your target? It's partly my club, so if you are looking for someone here I should at least be questioned. Is that why they sent you? Thought you could soften me up maybe? Are you wearing a wire?" He leaned forward, trying to see if he could see any sign of one in her neckline.

"Hey!" Lisbon snapped, "Eyes up."

"I apologize," he told her easily. "But I got carried away picturing other agents across the street in a van with headphones on, and it is a lovely view."

"Letch," she muttered.

"Not at all, just an ardent admirer of the female form," Mashburn corrected smoothly.

"I'm fairly certain that's just a more eloquent definition of a letch," Lisbon replied.

"Maybe," he acknowledged with a shrug. "But undercover or not, I hope I'm the reason for your presence here tonight."

"_Please,_" Lisbon shot back.

Mashburn took her scorn in stride. "I am an attractive man you know, not to mention very rich; most women would consider me quite a catch."

Lisbon raised her eyebrows. "I'm not most women."

"No," he agreed readily. "No, you're not are you Agent Lisbon?"

"Teresa," she corrected.

"What?" her companion asked slightly confused.

"My name," Lisbon elaborated. "It's Teresa."

"So we are off the clock, are we?" Mashburn guessed, clearly pleased.

"Either that or I'm flirting with you to put you at ease in hopes that you'll reveal something incriminating," Lisbon pointed out.

"Ah ha!" Mashburn exclaimed triumphantly, "So you are flirting with me then?"

Lisbon cursed the blush she could feel rising to her cheeks and hoped the dim light would hide it. She'd walked right into that one.

The billionaire continued, ignoring (and perhaps enjoying) her discomfort. "I think I like it," he decided. "Actually, I know I like it. There's something in your eyes. You intrigue me. Would you like another drink? Or dinner? We can go anywhere you want. Literally. Doesn't have to be right now. I'll give you my card," he added, reaching for his wallet. "You can call me."

Mashburn looked shocked when Lisbon suddenly sent him a blinding smile. "Here," she told him, handing him something from her clutch.

"What's this?" he asked, flipping the card over.

"_My_ card," she told him, watching as his eyes skimmed the 'Agent T. Lisbon, CBI.' "If you still remember my name tomorrow, give me a call." With that she jumped down from her bar stool, pleased when she managed to land gracefully. "And thank you for the drink," she called over her shoulder as she sashayed over to the dance floor, quite satisfied with herself.

She'd barely been out there five seconds before she felt someone grab her hand and pull. Before she could object she found herself pressed up against a now familiar chest. Any of the protests she'd been planning died in her throat when she saw the look of pure lust in her partner's eyes. Grinning in pleasure Lisbon wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his willingly, letting her hips move in time with his. He smiled back and wrapped his arms around her waist more firmly, his grip confident and a little possessive. She found herself liking it.

To her surprise he didn't release her right away when the song ended. Instead he slid his hands up to her face and kissed her quickly but firmly once. He pulled away relatively quickly, and smirked at her wide eyes, his grin almost predatory. "I can promise you I'll still remember your name tomorrow Teresa, so wait for my call." With that he stepped back, and placing another quick kiss to her wrist he released her. "Enjoy the rest of your night," he told her, before disappearing into the crowd.

Lisbon grinned to herself as she let herself fade into the dance floor. That had gone fairly well.

She didn't see Mashburn again for the remainder of her time at the club except for a few brief glasses across the room. The first time he raised his glass and sent her a wink, the second she sent him a saucy grin of her own, pleased when he raised his eyebrows and mimed making a phone call.

As she walked to her car several hours later she shook her head. Playing the sexy seductress had definitely been _fun_ for the evening. She'd been so distracted she'd even managed to forget about the general hopelessness she'd been feeling all too often lately.

And whatever else could be said about Walter Mashburn, for a little while that evening he'd been utterly and completely focussed on _her._

xxxxx

Patrick Jane grinned to himself on his way to his boss's office. He'd spoken to the rest of the team, and they were all free for dinner the following Tuesday. Rigsby'd even suggested a new Thai restaurant that he'd already been to and particularly liked. Jane knew Lisbon loved Thai food, so that'd put her in a good mood. And it'd get her out for some nice normal social interaction, instead of whatever the heck she'd been doing. Besides, he figured if he could get her alone out of the office, even if it was just for a minute, he'd have a better chance of figuring out what was going on with her.

At least whatever she'd had to do last night, she looked pleased about it. A bit tired maybe, but not quite so sad and detached as usual. He'd even caught her grinning to herself a couple of times that morning. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious.

But he'd bug her about it later, at the moment he needed to get her to agree to dinner first. He approached the door of her office and was about to go in, when he noticed she was sitting in her chair, on the phone, facing away from him. His curiosity getting the better of him Jane took a quick step back, as he settled in to listen to her half of the conversation.

"Yes you did remember," he heard her say. "I'm sorry for doubting you." Well, Lisbon doubting someone hardly narrowed down the list of potential candidates of who she was talking to. With her trust issues that could be almost anyone.

He heard her speak again, "Yes, last night was fun. The club is nice."

So she _had _been at a club, Jane deduced in triumph. But from the sounds of it she'd actually met someone there this time. Well, good for her then.

"What did you have in mind?" he heard Lisbon ask. And it was clearly someone she was planning on seeing again. Jane frowned, not sure he cared for the suggestive tone in her voice. Just who was this guy that was meeting Lisbon at clubs? Her new man obviously didn't know her that well if he thought that was where she liked to go, her recent activities notwithstanding.

Then Jane heard her laugh, "No I don't want to fly to Scotland tomorrow! I don't care if you have a castle in the north and a private jet to take us there! Take me somewhere in-state. Some of us have jobs we have to go to."

A _castle?_ Jane thought stupefied. Well, that certainly narrowed down the list of candidates. Who could she possibly know that had a _castle?_ The last time he'd checked, Lisbon wasn't on speaking terms with the royal family. Then it hit him like a lightning bolt. A castle in Scotland, in-state, someone without a steady job.

It couldn't be.

"Alright Mr. Mash... fine, _Walter_," he heard her say, and the bottom dropped out of his stomach. "I can absolutely meet you half way. Dinner in Fairfield sounds lovely. I'll see you on Saturday at seven. Bye."

Jane watched as she spun her chair back to face her desk, a self-satisfied grin on her face. Lisbon had actually accepted a date with Walter Mashburn? The billionaire without a conscience? Jane couldn't believe it. He knew he'd encouraged the idea originally, but he'd never thought she'd actually go for it. And now that she had he was pretty sure he didn't like it.

Jane took another quiet step back before she noticed him. He'd ask her about dinner on Tuesday later. Right now he had to give this new (and unwelcome) development some thought.

xxxxx

Lisbon pulled up to the restaurant and got out of her car, smoothing her skirt as she did so. She wasn't an idiot; she'd seen the way Walter'd been eying her legs the day before. Besides, she'd never get the opportunity to wear this at work; it was a little too bright for court days. And she was enjoying digging into the half of her closet that she never used.

She walked into the restaurant, her stomach a mixture of nerves and excitement. She gave the hostess her name and was promptly led straight to a corner table where Walter Mashburn was already seated, grinning at her. "Figures," she muttered to herself before sending him a grin, her smile widening when she saw his eyes skim over her legs. Apparently she'd been right about the skirt.

"Walter," she said playfully as she approached the table.

"_Teresa_," he replied, stressing her name as he stood. He kissed her cheek before pulling out her chair for her.

Lisbon sat down and noticed that she already had a drink. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I took the liberty of ordering you a beverage," Mashburn explained. "Thought you might be thirsty after the drive. And you seemed to enjoy it last night."

"You told them what was in your secret drink?" she asked, mock scandalized. "I'm shocked."

Mashburn grinned, "I come here from time to time, and I know the bartender. He already knows the recipe, and is sworn to secrecy."

"I see," Lisbon replied. "So tell me, are you going to order for me all evening?"

"In an attempt to impress you with my wealth, insight and confidence?" he asked, clearly amused. "No. You hardly seem like the type of woman who'd be impressed by that sort of thing. Too independent. Which isn't an insult by the way. I like it. No, I won't be hijacking your meal Teresa. I can however, offer advice into some of the things you might enjoy, if you'd like. And I must insist on choosing the wine, it's a bit of a little hobby of mine."

"I suppose that's fair," Lisbon said, opening her menu with a grin, pleased that he wasn't going to try and completely take over the evening. It put her more at ease. "Alright, what would you suggest to start?

To her amusement Walter proceeded to detail the highlights of the menu and why she might like them until the waiter reappeared. She placed her order (made up almost entirely of his suggestions), and waited for him to do the same. He finished with a bottle of wine which was no doubt expensive, but she didn't care. She was equally sure it'd be good.

Mashburn waited until the waiter was out of earshot before turning back to his companion. "So, Teresa, I must admit, ever since I met you I've been curious about what caused the damage lurking behind your eyes."

"Excuse me?" Lisbon asked, shocked, and really quite annoyed.

If Mashburn noticed her anger he didn't show it. "It's obvious that you are," he explained. "And like I said I'm intrigued, and I want to get to know you better."

"And that's what you decided to start with?" she asked, her tone angry. "You didn't think something a little more, I don't know, neutral might have been more appropriate?"

"I thought it might be a good ice-breaker," Mashburn shrugged. "And I'm hardly traditional. You know that." He paused, "And in a lot of ways neither are you. I'm merely curious as to why."

"So what, I'm just here to amuse you then?" Lisbon wondered caustically.

"I thought we were here to amuse each other," he told her with a suggestive look on his face.

Lisbon forced herself to calm down. She'd known what she was getting into. And in a way, the conversation was so absurd it was almost funny. "And telling you my deepest darkest secrets is the only way to amuse you is it?" Lisbon asked, now only mildly annoyed.

"Of course not," Mashburn insisted. "Don't be ridiculous. But like I said, I'm curious. You certainly don't have to tell me. And I'm sure there are many ways you could keep me intrigued. You did an excellent job of that last night."

Lisbon smiled before she could stop herself.

"Oh, you like that do you?" he asked. "Alright Agent Lisbon, I get it, no prying into your past. You don't like talking about it."

"Not with someone I barely even know," she qualified.

"So let's get to know each other," Mashburn said again. "What do you want to know?"

Lisbon eyed him critically. "How many times have you been married?"

Mashburn let out a mirthless laugh, "Now who's going for the jugular?" he asked. "But as it happens that question causes me no particular pain. Only some embarrassment." He took a sip of his drink. "Four," he told her honestly.

"Why?" she asked calmly.

He shrugged. But Lisbon thought he might have been a bit more upset about it than he appeared. "Why not?" he asked. "I was bored, wanted companionship, maybe even thought I loved them. The sex was always phenomenal. But the money tends to get in the way of genuine relationships. The one possible downside to the billions. On the other hand, I do have a marina of boats and a fleet of cars."

"And a castle," she added.

"Plus a villa in Tuscany and an apartment in London," he added, hid mood lifting.

"Show off," she replied playfully.

He shrugged, "Have to impress you somehow. It's not an easy task you know."

"Is that the only reason you wanted to take me to dinner?" Lisbon asked curiously. "To impress me? Because I said no the first time?"

Mashburn looked genuinely surprised at that. "No," he replied immediately. "No Teresa, I didn't just ask you to dinner because you said 'no' the first time. I'll admit your refusal had some pleasant results, added a little bit of the fun of the chase, namely getting to flirt with you over drinks at my own club. But I can assure you if you'd said yes the first time I'd have been just as pleased. Because whether you choose to believe me or not, there's something about you that fascinates me. And whether you admit it or not, I think you're just as curious about me. So no Teresa, I didn't want to date you because you originally refused. I'm not quite as simple as that. And I don't think you are either."

Lisbon leaned back in her chair and grinned at him over her glass. "Alright then."

Mashburn returned the smile, leaning forward on the table. "Now you tell me, why did _you_ accept _my_ invitation? I know it wasn't so you could get a free trip to Scotland, or a ride in one of my many boats. So why?"

Lisbon glanced away briefly, looking out the window. "Because," she said softly. Then she turned back and met his eyes deciding to actually tell him the truth, "Because I wanted some fun, and I thought you'd be able to give it to me."

Mashburn smiled slowly, "Oh, I can promise you Teresa, that I most certainly can."

With that their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of their meals.

xxxxx

The two of them were just about done with their main courses. And Lisbon had to admit, Walter hadn't been lying when he'd said he could show her a good time. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had so much fun out for a meal. The whole thing was like one big game, seeing who could gain the conversational advantage. She had no delusions that it would work long term (even if she'd wanted it to), but it made for one hell of an entertaining diversion.

She was giggling over the tail end of one of his more absurd stories (they weren't kidding when they said the lives of the rich and famous were different. She couldn't imagine being so cavalier about a party which ended with a swimming pool and half a beach house needing to be almost entirely rebuilt), when she noticed Walter's eyes widen in recognition.

"Patrick," he said exuberantly, standing immediately. "This is a surprise!"

Lisbon almost choked on her wine. It couldn't be. It absolutely wasn't possible. But apparently it was. She watched in shock and horror as Jane walked up to shake Mashburn's hand. Fake smile firmly in place. "Walter, good to see you again," Jane said in greeting. "Lisbon, this is a surprise." Lisbon sent him a thin smile, knowing that he was lying. The idiot had somehow known she'd be here, lord only knew how.

Mashburn seemed particularly amused by Jane's presence. "We were just about to have dessert," the billionaire told him. "Won't you join us?"

"Oh, I couldn't interrupt your evening," Jane replied immediately, the very picture of politeness. But Lisbon knew better, she knew that the invitation was exactly what Patrick Jane had been aiming for all along. The only question was _why_.

"Nonsense," Mashburn said, waving away the objection. "The more the merrier." Then something seemed to strike him, he turned to Lisbon, "You don't mind do you Teresa?"

Lisbon saw Jane's eyebrows go up at the use of her first name. She grinned to herself. That's right you smug bastard, she thought. I'm on a first name basis with a billionaire. She forced herself to smile politely at her dinner companion. "Of course not _Walter_," she replied easily. She did mind, but she couldn't very well say that. Not without giving a reason, and somehow 'Because he's my consultant, he's insane, and he causes me nothing but headaches' didn't sound good enough, even just in her head.

Mashburn grinned, signalled to the waiter for a third chair, and the three of them sat down for coffee and dessert.

"So what brings you here Patrick?" Mashburn asked as soon as Jane was seated.

Jane shrugged eloquently, "Oh, nothing specific. A friend of mine told me this restaurant was quite good, and I was out for a drive already, so I thought I'd drop by and check it out for myself."

"A friend?" Lisbon asked sarcastically.

"You don't know him," Jane told her with a wave of his hand.

Lisbon looked dubious at best. Jane knew she didn't believe him, and for some reason Mash looked unbelievably amused.

"So you just felt like going for a drive out of the city were you?" Mashburn asked, leaning back in his chair. "There seems to be a lot of that going around the CBI," he added with a significant look at Lisbon (who Jane was irked to see, smiled mysteriously in response). "Is there something happening in Sacramento that I should be aware of?"

"Oh, I think you're probably safe," Lisbon told him archly.

"Hmm," he replied. "Pity. I was so hoping for an outbreak of a new, but deadly disease. It'd be much more interesting than two people from the same office coincidentally going for two separate drives."

"Ah, but if it was a disease then we might be carriers, and you'd be exposed," Lisbon pointed out.

"True," Mashburn replied considering, "But in that case the doctors might recommend the two of us go into quarantine together, which would have its compensations."

To Jane's utter shock instead of hitting him, or at the very least verbally smacking him down, Lisbon laughed at her companion's brazen (at least in his opinion) insinuations.

Lisbon opened her dessert menu, and then turned to her consultant. "So Jane, have you actually eaten dinner, or are you just going to skip it in favour of dessert?" she asked neutrally.

Jane grinned, "Dessert," he replied cheerfully. "Never was one for sticking to society's accepted conventions."

"Here here!" Mashburn said, raising his glass in a mock toast.

"Suit yourself," Lisbon said with a shrug. She knew she wasn't exactly being friendly, but she was about ten seconds away from tipping his chair over for showing up here. It'd be one way to wipe that smug smile off his face. Plus, he deserved it, and she wasn't on the clock anyway. And just how long was Jane planning on sticking around? Just long enough to ruin the rest of her evening she'd bet. She took a deep breath and tried to forget about her irritating consultant. "So Walter," she asked, "Any suggestions for dessert?"

Mashburn leaned ever so slightly towards her (to Jane's dismay she returned the gesture instead of moving away). "Oh, you're actually asking my advice now are you?"

She shrugged, "Well, between the drinks and the dinner your recommendations have been proven to be good, so I figured why not? Maybe I'm curious about what you'll get me for dessert."

Mashburn grinned, "Not only do I know the bartender, but I know the pastry chef. I think I'm going to go have a talk with him. And then I'll have them bring you something special Teresa, something just for you."

Lisbon's grinned. "I can't wait."

With that Mashburn got up from the table, asked Jane if he wanted anything and promised to be back soon. As soon as they were alone Jane turned all of his attention to his menu and tried not to look at the woman next to him. He knew that as soon as he did, he was in for it. He could feel her glare on him.

Lisbon was in no mood to wait for him to look at her. "Alright Jane, what the hell are you really doing here?" she hissed.

"Like I said," he replied smoothly, "I was just in the neighbourhood and thought I'd drop by. I was going for a drive."

"We're not even in Sacramento!" she pointed out.

"I can't go for a drive somewhere else?" he asked. "Driving around Sacramento's no fun after a while, all that inner-city congestion..."

"Jane!" she snapped.

Sensing real danger in her tone, Jane decided he'd better just tell the truth. "I'm worried about you Lisbon."

"Don't be," she told him firmly.

"Well, it's hardly something I can help," he pointed out petulantly.

Her glare didn't soften even the slightest little bit. "Yeah, you just _happen_ to show up at the restaurant where I'm having dinner."

"With Walter Mashburn," Jane pointed out. "How did that happen anyway? I thought you said you weren't going to accept his dinner invitation."

"And I thought you said I should have," Lisbon countered easily.

"That was before..." Jane muttered.

"Before what?" Lisbon asked immediately.

"Nothing," he replied.

"No Jane, there's no 'nothing' tonight. You show up to bother me on my rare time off. You'll never make me believe that this was a coincidence so don't even try. I don't know how you knew I'd b here, but you obviously did. So now you're going to tell me why you think that even though I'm a grown woman who can make her own decisions, and even though I'm a responsible adult, and even though I'm your superior and you really have no say in my personal life, you think that I shouldn't be out to dinner with Walter Mashburn. Is it a class thing? Think he could do better than me?"

"No! Of course not!" Jane replied, clearly scandalized.

"Well then?" Lisbon asked.

"I... I think he's dangerous," Jane muttered.

"_Dangerous_?" Lisbon asked, shocked. That wasn't the answer she'd been expecting. "Walter?" she double-checked. "I know he's a little unorthodox, and he has more money than is good for him, but I've never felt myself to be in any particular danger tonight."

"That's because, well, you weren't..." Jane sighed, knowing that he'd have to tell her the whole story. "Lisbon, when we worked with him on a case he was fascinated with the process, with the new experience that being a murder suspect brought with it. As we were leaving that parking garage after we, or rather Cho, caught the killer, I asked him how he'd top that new experience. He said that next time he'd be the killer. And remember, he always said that if he wanted someone dead they'd just disappear, as if they'd never been born. I don't know, I just... I don't want anything to happen to you Lisbon."

Lisbon stared at him, her mouth partway open in shock, "You can't honestly be suggesting that Walter Mashburn asked me out to dinner as part of some sort of perfect murder plot, for some sort of perverted thrill?"

Jane shrugged, it was more reasonable than she was making it sound. "Catching a CBI agent would qualify as a thrill wouldn't you say?"

"Thank you very much for insinuating that the only possible reason Walter Mashburn would ask me to dinner is because he was planning on killing me later," Lisbon snapped.

"Well of course that's not true," Jane replied. He wasn't sure why she was being so difficult. Yes, he'd crashed her date, but he had a valid point, and he had her best interests at heart. "You know as well as I do that he's attracted to you. I'm just saying, be careful Lisbon. Like I said, he did say he'd make someone disappear."

"Hypothetically Jane," Lisbon reminded him gently. It was hard to stay mad at Jane when he was (sort of) genuinely being sweet. "That is the key word here. You know as well as I do he was probably screwing with us. And Walter's not stupid, or arrogant enough to make that someone a respected, responsible CBI Agent. That's not the type of thing law enforcement forgets. Besides, even if he did, it's unlikely he'll carry his plan through now that you've seen us together. That'd inevitably raise questions, so I think I'm safe."

"Oh, most likely," Jane grumbled, conceding the point. "I'm still surprised though. I didn't think Mashburn was your type."

"Maybe I should change my type," Lisbon shot back. "At least he's not boring. And what do you know about my type anyway?"

"Well..." Jane started.

"What is my type Jane? Boring, stable, sensible, practical? Follows the rules?" she snapped, finding herself getting truly angry now. "Maybe I'm sick of the rules. Maybe I'm sick of where they've gotten me. Maybe I just wanted a little fun, a little, how did you put it? Empty glamour?"

Jane stared at her like she'd grown a second head. He'd known she was frustrated of course, about the job, about Rigsby and Van Pelt, about Hightower, about Red John, and maybe especially about him, but he'd had no idea her frustration ran so deep. He looked into her eyes, and saw the edges of desperation, and embarrassment that she'd let him see it. And he watched as she slowly shut down, just as Walter Mashburn returned to the table.

Lisbon's smile immediately brightened as she turned to her date, "So is the kitchen whipping up something positively decadent to impress me?"

He returned the grin, "I thought you could use a little indulgence. And I promise you'll enjoy this."

"And if I don't?" she asked flirtatiously.

Mashburn returned the smile. "Then you'll have to let me make it up to you some other way."

"That could be arranged," Lisbon promised enigmatically.

Since they'd apparently forgotten he was there Jane took the opportunity to watch the both. The mentalist looked at Lisbon's eyes sparkling with fun and glanced at Mashburn, his own gaze amused, but completely fixed on hers. And Jane realized something, both of them were adults, and they both knew exactly what they were doing and what the other person was there for. At least they had a pretty good idea. Who was he to intrude? And he _was_ intruding, that much was clear. Mashburn didn't have any sinister intentions, beyond potentially luring her into his bed. But Lisbon looked like she might be up for that, and she certainly didn't have any delusions about the relationship being particularly permanent. They were quite simply having fun. If he cared about her, he should let her have that.

Jane stood quietly, "You know, I just remembered I have somewhere else to be," he told them. "So I'll just leave the two of you to your dessert."

The pair of them glanced over at him. Lisbon was clearly surprised, and Mashburn's expression was harder to read. One part amusement, one part triumph, one part something else, that Jane couldn't quite put his finger on, maybe it was just the latent attraction the man obviously felt for the brunette across from him. "I'm sorry to hear that Patrick," the other man told him, the lie tripping easily off his tongue. "Hopefully we'll meet again."

"Hopefully" Jane replied easily. For all his faults, he did like the billionaire. Then the consultant placed a hand on his boss' shoulder. "Take care of yourself Lisbon," he told her softly.

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion briefly, "Of course," she replied, suddenly concerned. Jane didn't just back down, especially when it was for no other reason than she'd asked him to. "Are you alright?" she asked him.

"I'm fine Lisbon," he told her with a smile. "I'm sorry I interrupted your meal. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

"Goodbye Patrick," Mashburn said. Then he turned back towards his companion, "So, how do you feel about dark chocolate?" he asked.

Lisbon sent him a smile, "I see you've found my weakness," she replied, clearly pleased. "Dare I hope the famous dessert is of the chocolate variety?" she asked. But out of the corner of her eye she caught Jane leaving, and her smile faltered ever so slightly. What was going on with her consultant?

xxxxx

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Alright, here it is, "the Jane part," as promised (aka the part I'm not too sure about). I'd love to hear what people think. The whole story was awesome to write, but I have mixed feelings about it, that are hard to explain.

But here it is, part 3. Hope you enjoy.

xxxxx

Lisbon slowly got out of the limousine; never let it be said that Walter Mashburn didn't do things in style. And even though she doubted the night had ended like he'd been hoping, the man had nonetheless insisted on having his driver take her home after she'd realized she probably shouldn't drive.

Granted, her going home hadn't been his _first_ suggestion, but for some reason… Lisbon leaned unsteadily against her porch railing. God, what was wrong with her? A handsome billionaire offers her a fabulous no strings evening (and she assumed the morning following it) and she turns him down? Was she stupid? The number of women who'd have killed to be in her shoes… But ever since Jane had showed up at the table with his talk of dangerous men, and potential murderers, and vanishing CBI agents... And _then, _then for some reason he'd just walked off… Well, after that nothing about the evening had felt right.

Oh, it'd been _fun_ certainly. Mashburn was enjoyable company. But watching Jane walk away, a tangible reminder of her real life, Lisbon couldn't help wondering what the hell she was doing sitting across the table from a playboy billionaire. The whole thing had started out as a way to break her rules, but in her desperation to distance herself from put-upon, underappreciated, overworked Agent Lisbon had Teresa swung too far the other way? And how would it feel tomorrow morning leaving Mashburn's mansion/grotto/hotel penthouse/whatever the heck he lived in, knowing she'd probably never see him again? Then she'd begin to wonder if maybe leaving while she was still ahead might not be the best choice.

The second they'd left the restaurant (after a truly decadent dessert) Lisbon began fiddling with her keys, though she was distressed to realize that after cocktailes and then wine she was far tipsier than she'd thought. She'd definitely had more than three drinks, her usual limit, and now she was fairly certain she shouldn't be driving. She supposed her predicament served her right; she'd insisted on breaking her own rules. "Well," she said slowly, "I guess I should be heading back. It's getting late, and even after meeting half way it's a bit of a haul."

"There's no hurry," Walter had assured her, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm sure we could always find you a place to stay," he told her.

Lisbon focussed on his hand, her mind racing. Could she? Should she? She didn't know. And that was really an answer in and of itself wasn't it? "Walter..." she said softly, shaking her head.

But he interrupted her, "Ah there she is," he said quietly. "I was wondering if your responsible side was going to emerge at some point tonight Teresa."

"I know this isn't..." she started to explain.

"Don't worry about it," he told her waving his hand. "You don't have to explain. I knew coming in that I had at best a 50% chance of getting more than dinner tonight, even with your wilder side making a sudden resurgence. And 50% might have been hopeful, but then, I'm always hopeful. Especially when it comes to beautiful women. But I didn't ask you to dinner just on the off chance that I might get to sleep with you Teresa. If all I wanted was sex I could get that from any one of my cookie-cutter women you were so contemptuous of yesterday. Actually, I'm sure I could even get it now with one phone call if I wanted. That's not what this was about. I find you interesting, I told you. And we had fun, don't even bother trying to deny it."

"I wasn't going to," she told him with a small grin.

"Good," he replied. "Thank you for dinner Teresa, it's been an experience. I've already called my driver. He can take you home; arguing with me about it will be pointless. And hey, if your adventurous side ever decides it wants to come out for a spin at a later date..." Mashburn finished his thought with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows.

"I might end up taking another drive over to that club of yours," she replied with a grin.

"Or you could just call me," he supplied, handing her his card. "And I may just take that call, if you remember my name, of course" he told her with a grin.

With that Mashburn bent down and kissed her slowly. And as he pulled away Lisbon almost had a change of heart, for just a moment. His smug smile told her he knew it too. She sighed, sending him a rueful smile. "Good night Walter," she said softly as the limousine pulled up.

"Good night Teresa," he said as he opened the door for her. "I hope to hear from you again."

"You just might," she told him quietly. The way her job went sometimes, well, the no strings fun was nice.

"Next time we'll go to Scotland," he decided. "It'll make it harder for you to leave when dinner's over."

She'd just laughed and let him shut the door, acknowledging to herself that part of her already didn't want to leave.

And now she was alone on her front porch, alone and a little angry with herself. She could be having fabulous sex right now. Instead she was stuck leaning against her railing. Because something hadn't felt quite right.

Lisbon closed her eyes briefly and sighed. Something still didn't feel quite right. Of course it didn't. She didn't know why that was even a shock to her any more. At least 'slightly off' was a feeling she was used to. Suddenly she heard another person moving out of the shadows of the porch. She tensed, wondering whether or not she was even sober enough to make going for her gun a good idea.

"I knew you'd be back tonight," she heard a voice say.

Lisbon let out the breath she'd been holding in a whoosh. "Jesus Jane! You scared me," she snapped as she turned towards the man now leaning against the other railing. "What are you trying to do, give me a heart attack? And what are you doing here anyway? Are you _still _following me?"

"How could I be following you if technically I arrived first?" he asked.

"Stalking me then," she corrected with a snarl.

Jane shook his head slowly, watching her carefully. She was angry. Maybe not with him directly, probably mostly with herself, but for some reason he'd been the match that'd lit the fuse. And if her flushed cheeks and slightly glassy eyes were anything to go by, she was still a bit tipsy, which certainly wouldn't help matters. She was also tired and sad, which would help them even less. This would require some delicacy. "Not stalking you, no," he told her. "Just waiting for you, checking in. Like I said, I'm worried about you Lisbon."

She rolled her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself against the chill. "Yeah, you said that already Jane. You're ever so concerned. Why on earth was I having dinner with someone so positively volatile as Walter Mashburn? Then you show up, with your _concern_ and I mean, I never thought I'd see that day. What's got to have happened to me if _Patrick Jane_ is actually concerned? Maybe if I was blacking out again. Or maybe if I was about to be accused of murder or something. What overly dangerous behaviour was I engaged in? Oh yeah, I was having dinner with a man. But by then I'd start second-guessing. And, and, I was having _fun_ Jane. And now I'm not," Lisbon said sadly, her mighty and righteous rant ending up on a sad note. "You big killjoy," she muttered.

"Lisbon, I..." Jane started.

But she interrupted him, "Look Jane, if we're going to do this, could we at least do it inside?" she asked. "I'm getting a little cold here."

"Of course, after you," he told her, stepping aside so she could open the door.

He followed her into her apartment, listening to her quiet ranting about 'nosy consultants who couldn't mind their own damn business' and 'who drives across the state and just shows up when other people are having dinner' and 'actually having a good time for once,' plus other less coherent grievances, which seemed to be continuously punctuated with mutterings of 'stupid Jane,' or 'meddling idiot.' He would have been amused if she hadn't been so obviously upset.

He watched as Lisbon walked into her kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. She turned to him expectantly.

Uncharacteristically Jane hesitated; he wasn't sure how to begin, so he decided to ease into things. "That was quite the ride you had there Lisbon," he told her lightly. "Perk of dinner with a billionaire I suppose."

She just stared at him, clearly unimpressed. Jane figured he'd better say something else before she threw her water in his face.

"You looked like you were having a good time when I saw you," he ventured. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Yes," she told him quickly. "Walter's pretty good company. I had fun," she confirmed. Then she sighed. "Then no, not after all your talk of potential murder, and destructive behaviour and, and I don't know what else."

"I'm sorry Lisbon," he told her softly.

"No you're not!" she snapped back.

"Yes, yes I am," he insisted. I'm sorry that I ruined your night. I'm sorry that you were having fun, and I destroyed it. You don't deserve that. You deserve to have a good time."

"Damn right I deserve to have a good time!" she practically shouted.

"But is that really the kind of good time you want?" he asked cautiously.

She glared at him, "What would you know about what I want?" she asked caustically. "You don't know me at all."

"Now that's not true," he started to say.

"Yes it is!" she insisted. "You think you know me. That's it. Hell, half the time _I_ barely know me, so I don't see how you could have so much freakin' insight."

"I know that Teresa Lisbon is a dedicated Agent of the CBI," he told her. "And I know that Teresa Lisbon would never abandon a friend or a colleague. And she'd do anything she possibly could to catch a killer, or save a potential victim. She's dedicated her life to giving people peace of mind. And while sometimes she's underappreciated, or taken advantage of, and sometimes she gets frustrated, when it comes down to it she's still always there, working away."

"Working," Lisbon repeated wearily. "Always working." She sighed. "I'm sick of working Jane. I wanted something else, something fun, something mindless. Something that broke the rules, was a little different, maybe even a little dangerous. I wanted, I wanted _reckless_. I've played it straight my whole life; I had to. I just wanted one night. And you couldn't even let me have that."

Alright, Jane thought, that's enough. He couldn't take any more of this self-pitying Lisbon. This wasn't her. His Lisbon was a fighter. And it was about time she regained her fire. "I get that your night didn't go as you'd hoped Lisbon," he told her. "But I wasn't the one who took it from you." She opened her mouth to object, but he wouldn't let her. "Oh, I'll agree that I probably didn't _help_. But all I did was make you realize that something you were doing didn't feel right _to you_. I didn't drag you out of there, I didn't condemn your actions, I didn't even tell you I thought it was a bad idea." He paused for a moment, "Okay, I did do that. But only because I was worried. And after I told you that, and you pointed out I may have been overstepping a little, or maybe a lot. And then what did I do? Then I left, because you looked like you were having a good time. You did the rest yourself, with all of your worry."

"I only thinking about all that stuff because you showed up!" she insisted.

"Were you thinking about all through dessert, or were you obsessing over it on the drive home, because you thought you made the wrong decision?" he asked neutrally.

Lisbon paused, "Mostly on the ride home I guess," she conceded, annoyed at the insight, and the fact that maybe he was right, maybe she couldn't completely blame him for everything. "But it started after dessert," she added petulantly, unwilling to completely cede the floor.

"So?" Jane asked.

"So?" she repeated in irritation. "You still had no right. And why the hell where you following me anyway?" she demanded. "And don't give me that crap about hearing the restaurant was good, because I don't believe a word of it."

"I may have found out about your intended dinner companion for the evening," he admitted.

"So you thought you'd check up on me?" she asked, scandalized.

"You've been acting strangely!" he shot back. "You come in looking like you've been out all night. You speed around town, breaking all sorts of traffic laws. I know you're going to bars a few times a week alone. It's not healthy Lisbon. And yeah, some people do it, but not you. I'm just, I'm trying to, I don't know, to help you I guess."

"Well stop it!" Lisbon snapped. "I don't need your help. I can take care of myself." It's not that she didn't appreciate the concern, but she didn't need Jane poking his nose into her private live in all sorts of inappropriate ways. Her professional life was bad enough. And she was embarrassed, embarrassed about how easily he'd picked up on it. And upset with herself because part of her had wanted him to.

Oh thank god, Jane thought. Righteously angry Lisbon. Her appearance was a relief. "I know that!" he told her. "You're almost ridiculously independent. I just, I want to..." he trailed off. "You weren't being you!" he shouted suddenly.

"What?" Lisbon asked flabbergasted. So she'd started going out at night. She hadn't let it affect the quality of her work, she knew that. So what did Jane even care?

"You were, I don't know, you were like pod-Lisbon, like someone I didn't even know anymore."

"I told you," she said irritated. "I was trying to shake things up, let loose a little. Be like everybody else, have a life. Step away from Agent Lisbon for a bit." Why was that so wrong? The fact that everyone seemed to think it was should have been a red flag, but somehow it was strangely comforting.

"Why not take some time off?" Jane suggested tentatively.

"I can't take time off, you'll burn down the CBI by the time I'm back," she insisted.

"I could take time off too," he told her.

Lisbon snorted.

"And anyway, why were you trying to be like everybody else?"Jane demanded, growing annoyed himself. "The team likes you just as you are. _I _like you just as you are. And I'm sure the rest of your friends do as well. If you want a life, great. If you want to have fun, great. But I resent the implication on your behalf that Teresa Lisbon, just as she is, Agent Lisbon and all, doesn't know how to have any fun. Because that's not true."

Lisbon took a sharp intake of breath. That's what had felt off all night. She'd wanted some fun, something special with someone who knew her. But did it count if the person she was showing them wasn't really her? How much of what she'd shown Walter was genuine? She wasn't sure. Next time (if there was a next time) she'd just be herself. Then maybe she just let herself relax and enjoy it. The fact that Jane might have a point didn't excuse his behaviour though. "That's sweet Jane," she told him softly. "But let's face it, things haven't been exactly rosy lately. And I just wanted a night of meaningless fun, with someone who wanted to spend time with me."

"But Walter Mashburn?" Jane asked.

"Hey, he knows how to show a girl a good time," Lisbon told him. "And we both knew what it was."

"If all you want is a night of meaningless fun, why not use me as your companion?" Jane suggested. "I mean, I know I'm not as rich as Mashburn, but I'm also not so creepily amoral. And I could certainly show you a good time."

Lisbon snorted again. He couldn't possibly be serious. "I'm sure you could," she told him. "But the thing is Jane, then I'd go into work the next day and I'd have to see you. And you'd know what happened. You're smug and superior already, I can't even imagine how you'd be if... Besides, my job's shaky enough as it is, all I need is for it to get out that I'm… I'm…" Lisbon waved her arms for emphasis as she searched for the right word.

"Fraternizing?" Jane suggested.

Lisbon's overly exuberant wave seemed to agree with his choice, "Yeah, with my consultant. At least Mashburn I'd never see again."

"I think you underestimate your appeal," he told her.

"Come on Jane, we both know what kind of man he is," she replied. "Even if _one time_ may be an understatement, the relationship was hardly ever going to be long term. And we both know I'm not the type to become wife number five."

"Five?" Jane asked, surprised.

"Five," she confirmed with a nod.

"Huh," Jane replied. "I'd have thought it would've been higher. And alright, maybe the tryst between hardworking CBI agent and gadabout billionaire would have been brief, but if you decided on only one night it would have been a mutual decision Lisbon. And while I admit that if the two of _us_ did…_ fraternize_, well, yes we would see each other again. Almost daily. But on the other hand, proximity would make it easier to repeat. You could think of it like therapy," Jane suggested.

Lisbon stared at him her eyes disbelieving, "Are you honestly suggesting that I start sleeping with you to relieve some of the tension in my life? The great new relaxation technique, instead of yoga, have sex with Patrick Jane! That I would be, what, some sort of pet project of yours? Oh, looks like Lisbon's depressed again and it's dragging down the mood in the office. Here comes Jane to the rescue! Ready to…"

"No!" Jane interrupted loudly. "No, I… You're not a charity case Lisbon. I just... You mean something."

"Ah, so it would be something a little more than screwing would it?" she asked him angrily. "And then what Jane? What then? We get closer, maybe I let my guard down. It'd be inevitable if we did it long enough wouldn't it? What then? Oh yeah, Red John. And you'd probably end up dead or in prison, and I'm right back where I started. Maybe even worse."

Jane looked at the ground.

"Face it Jane," she told him. "You're an even worse choice than Walter is. Yeah, I like you, and I worry about you, and you've become a part of my life now. But all that'll mean is that everything will be even worse when it's all over. At least Mashburn won't betray my trust.

"Only because you'd never give it to him in the first place," Jane muttered in irritation.

"Yeah," Lisbon agreed sadly. She knew that, had always known that. And she'd never had any intention about getting in deep with Walter Mashburn, telling him about her past. He wasn't the type you did that with. Jane on the other hand, well, he'd probably get it out of her either way. "Look Jane, don't even bother. I know I should find a _nice _guy, one who treats me right and is there for me and all that crap. But where am I gonna find one of those? I mean, look at me," she gestured to herself, and her now completely dishevelled appearance.

"I am looking at you," Jane said, his tone low.

"I'm a mess," Lisbon told him.

"You've been in a car for quite some time and it's near midnight," Jane pointed out.

Lisbon shook her head, that wasn't exactly her point. "I work too hard, I work too long. My job is my life. I can never let go, ever. Hell, I can't even enjoy a night of meaningless sex with a billionaire who finds me attractive and basically laid all the cards out on the table. I mean, I know he probably only wanted to because I went against type and that got his attention, or maybe he liked the idea of a woman with handcuffs and a gun, with his type I can see how that would appeal, and oh god, I'm still a little drunk and I'm rambling in front of my consultant. And I've been doing it for a while now haven't I?" Lisbon collapsed on her couch, her head in her hands. "God, what is wrong with me?"

Jane knelt in front of her, placing his own hands around her wrists as he tried to draw them away. "First of all," he told her softly, "You're lovely. And I promise you that if you really wanted to you could find a nice guy without any trouble."

"Sure I could," Lisbon muttered darkly.

"Quiet," Jane admonished. "You're sad and you've had a bit too much to drink. That's never a good combination. You could find a nice guy Lisbon; you just need to leave work before dark a few days a week. And you won't find him in one of those dark and smoky bars you've been frequenting all month."

Lisbon lowered one hand to look at him suspiciously.

"I said I was worried about you dear," Jane reminded her softly. He frowned when she lowered her eyes again, in what he would guess was a mixture of embarrassment, hurt, shame, and he hoped just the teeniest hint of relief that he cared that much, even though he knew a hint of self-loathing at being glad that she essentially had a stalker would eventually surface, if it hadn't already.

Her shoulders remained slumped, "Sorry I worried you," she whispered. "I'll try…"

Jane stood abruptly. "Do you think I care about a little worry?" he asked harshly. "I'd rather know when you were upset and worry about it than have you try and shut down on me all the time Lisbon," he bit out. He ran a hand through his hair in distraction. "And did it ever occur to you that I might like having someone to worry about?"

"What?" she asked honestly shocked.

"I know I have Red John," Jane told her, unable to meet her eyes. "God knows sometimes I wish I didn't. And I know that means… that it makes me… I know I'm not a nice guy Lisbon. And I know that the fact that I care enough to be here at all probably puts you in horrible danger,"

"Jane that's not…" Lisbon started to tell him.

Suddenly he looked her straight in the eye. "Why do you think I sometimes wish I could move on with my life Teresa? Why specifically?" he asked sharply.

Lisbon froze, unable to respond.

Jane sighed and looked away again. "I'm not a nice guy, but sometimes I wish I was." He took a breath, "And you really, really deserve a nice guy."

"Jane," she said softly.

"You could call me Patrick if you wanted," he murmured. "When we're out of the office. I don't mind."

She paused. Oh she wanted to. Part of her really wanted to. But after a brief absence, strong, sensible Lisbon was finally making herself known. "I'll think about it," she promised him. "I've gotten kind of fond of Jane. And it's easier to yell across a crowded room."

He nodded, almost smiling. He almost wanted to ask if he could reciprocate, but didn't want to hear her say no.

She seemed to anticipate him, "I suppose while I'm at it I could also think about letting you call me Teresa, for equality's sake."

"Of course," he told her.

After a slightly awkward pause he added, "I'm still going to worry about you Lisbon."

She tilted her head slightly considering, "I think I might be okay with that," she replied.

"Good," he told her with a nod.

"I suppose you're still going to be a thorn in my side at work," she added casually.

Jane smirked, "Almost certainly. Wouldn't want you to get too complacent after all," he told her.

She sighed, "Well, I guess I'll have to live with that too. And on that note, I guess see you at work on Monday," she said, hoping to herd him out of her apartment. It'd been a long night.

"Oh, I have no intention of leaving you alone tonight," Jane told her.

Lisbon glared again. "I don't need a babysitter Jane."

"I know, but I'm not going to leave you alone to obsess over what's happened. Just relax Lisbon. You can do it. You wanted to have a bit of fun. Why not try and enjoy my company. As an added bonus you get to be yourself," he told her.

"How do you know I wasn't myself with Mashburn?" she asked.

Jane was inordinately pleased that she'd apparently slipped back into using the billionaire's last name. "Oh, it was close Lisbon, but it was still a bit of an act."

"Of course it was!" she replied. "It was a date. No one's perfectly themselves on a date! If they were no couple would ever last past the first one."

"Well, be that as it may, since this isn't a date we won't even have that problem," he told her. "And you know me pretty well and you haven't run screaming yet, so that's probably a good sign too."

"Jane," she said tiredly.

Jane ignored her. "And I already like you, so why don't we watch a movie?" he asked cheerfully.

"Jane…"

"Come on, I know you own His Girl Friday. And you know you always love Cary Grant, no matter how annoyed or depressed you are."

"Jane…"

"Come on Teresa," he said testing her. "We're just watching a movie together. What's the harm? We'll have a little fun, enjoy ourselves."

She decided she was too tired to object to the use of her first name, "And afterwards?"

"Whatever you want," he told her honestly.

"And Red John?" she couldn't help checking, because this whole thing was such a recipe for disaster.

"We'll deal with him when the time comes," Jane said softly. He knew that was one thing he couldn't promise. Not yet. "And if things do go bad, at least we'll be able to remember a couple of good movies."

She hesitated.

But Jane was determined to convince her. "Lisbon, I want to be with you when you're sad. I don't like the idea of you sitting at home alone upset. And I like the thought of you thinking you need to change who you are to be happy even less. Let me watch movies with you, let me hold you a little. Would that honestly be any worse than both of us alone, you sad, me worried, or vice versa? Because this'll go both ways I promise you. If you think this is bad, wait until I'm the one who's upset."

"Will you make me popcorn?" she asked tentatively.

"Need I remind you we're in _your_ house?" Jane couldn't help pointing out in amusement.

Lisbon rolled her eyes, "You make perfect strangers tea all the time at their own houses. I hardly think making popcorn at mine is much of a stretch." And she was too tired to do it herself.

"How's your head?" Jane asked.

"I'm fine," she told him.

In other words she was feeling the start of tension headache behind her eyes, Jane concluded. "I'll refill your glass of water."

"No tea?" she asked playfully.

Jane shook his head, "It's a diuretic; it'll make you even more dehydrated. You need to replace some of that fluid."

"Yes Dr. Jane," Lisbon mocked.

"I just hope you're taking notes woman for when you have to take care of me," Jane shot back as he walked into her kitchen, pleased that her mood seemed to be improving. "Of course then we won't be watching Cukor. I've always been more of a fan of spy movies, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, James Bond, the Thomas Crown Affair."

"Plus there's your secret musical collection," Lisbon added.

Her guess was rewarded by the sound of a crash in the kitchen followed by a quiet curse. She laughed delightedly, pleased that her suspicions had been proven.

Jane poked his head back into the living room, "Musicals?" he asked innocently. "Why would you…"

"Oh please," she said with a wave of her hand. "It's obvious. And I hate to burst your bubble, but you're not so much James Bond as you are Harold Hill. Don't even try and tell me you haven't seen The Music Man more times than you can count. I wouldn't be surprised if you owned a copy."

Jane looked slightly sheepish, but impressed, "How…"

She shrugged. "You think you're the only one who notices things about people? You like musicals Jane, much as you try and deny it sometimes. And one about a shady con-man who tries to pull the wool over an uptight, but secretly romantic librarian only to fall head over heels in love with her is right up your alley. Doesn't take a genius to figure that one out."

"Well if I'm Harold then you're my Marian the Librarian," he told her. "Only your name doesn't rhyme with your occupation. Neither 'CBI' nor 'Agent' is particularly rhyme-friendly. Which is a shame. Unless I started calling you Theresa the Police-a." His eyes lit up.

"No," she said, trying to be firm, but her lips were twitching.

"Oh come on Lisbon…"

"Fine," she conceded. "But only if you plan on singing and dancing around the CBI while you sing to me. And I expect, Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt to be back-up dancers."

Jane paused. "Hmmm. I'll have to take that under consideration."

Lisbon laughed again, "I thought so. We can watch that one next time," she promised him. "And you can be the drunk idiot," she added ruefully, embarrassment starting to rise again at the memory.

"Oh hush," Jane told her with a wave of his hand. "You're not an idiot. And you're not superwoman. You're allowed a bit of a breakdown every now and then."

"Still, next time I'd rather if you were the one who got drunk," she told him.

"Planning on taking advantage of me?" he couldn't help asking.

"Maybe," Lisbon replied. "Since it appears you wouldn't mind. But, you also probably have more interesting stories."

"We could both get drunk," Jane suggested. "Make a game of it."

"You want to play a Music Man drinking game?" Lisbon asked, clearly amused.

"Why not?" Jane wondered. "It'd be different. And 'Drink any time Harold lies or tries to con someone' has its merits."

Lisbon shook her head. "That won't get us tipsy, that'll get our stomachs pumped."

"Spoilsport," Jane retorted.

"We'll come up with a better list later," she promised. "Or maybe we'll just find one on the internet. Now watch the movie, it's starting."

"Just let me get the popcorn." Jane grabbed the popcorn, poured it into a bowl, which he set on her lap. Then he placed a blanket around her shoulders and settled in next to her. To his surprise she looked amused rather than offended at his ministrations.

"Planning on finding a second blanket for my lap?" she teased.

"Hush."

Lisbon sighed as the opening credits rolled. Yes, Jane wasn't perfect. And no, he probably wasn't a nice guy. And yes, this might be the worst idea she'd ever had. But if she was going to be miserable all her life anyway, why shouldn't she try being miserable with another person for a little while? She smiled softly to herself and let her head drop onto Jane's shoulder as she moved ever so slightly closer to him. She might feel terrible again tomorrow, but at least at the moment she felt okay.

Jane turned and pressed a brief kiss into her hair, "There now," he whispered. "Isn't this better than some overly fancy dinner at a pretentious restaurant with a man who's at best bored with life, at worst sociopathic?"

Lisbon grinned softly, "Much." And she didn't even have to drive halfway to Marin County to get it. And at least with Jane could be herself, mainly because he'd know if she was being otherwise, but still. "Jane?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"Will you drive me to pick up my car tomorrow?"

"Of course," he promised, tossing an arm around her shoulders.

Lisbon smiled. She had no idea what she was doing, what _they_ were doing. But at least she could count on him for that.

Plus, it'd been a little while since she'd had someone to curl up on the couch and watch movies with, making silly comments. She'd always thought that was fun.

Maybe the two of them _could_ be lonely, sad and desperate together.

Just for a little while.

xxxxx

Fin

Alright, 'tis the end. Like I said, I'd love to know what you thought.


End file.
